Me, A Stark?
by chocolate1999
Summary: Meet Emma. Thirteen, brown hair but other than that, not really your average girl. But then again I guess, her father isn't exactly...average. Blackhawk, Pepperony, maybe other pairings.
1. Preface (I guess)

**A new story. This, if you've read my stories before, is Emma's back story. Once this is finished, I will be rewriting and republishing the story in which Emma was first created. For those of you not familiar with My Messed Up Life (which I've taken down), Emma is an oc of mine loosely (and I mean loosely) based of me personality and looks wise. Somethings are changed to add to the character because of her history. **

**Disclaimer: I own Emma. Any songs seen in this story are not mine unless otherwise stated. Also, all rights for Iron Man and the Avengers go to Marvel and their movie producers. Any characters that are announced at the start of a chapter to be mine, are mine.**

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Hi. My name is Emma. I'm thirteen years old. I'm brunnette with short hair that finnishes at my jawline. I have eyes that look brown in some light and green in others. My claim to fame is I speak thirteen languages fluently, am almost done learning two and started on another.**(1)** I have four sisters. I'll be out of this universe as soon as they get back.

I'm gonna be stuck here a while.

See, most people don't know this, but there are hundreds of different universes. The only place you can discover them all is the middleverse. Stupid name I know but it's accurate. It's literally in the middle of the multiverse.

The multiverse is loads of different dimension. That simple. So every TV show, every movie, every comic, every book, etc. Yeah those. They are all different dimensions, sometimes more than one story exist in one dimension. And some people have the ability to travel from dimension to dimension. And if you didn't guess already, I'm one of those lucky people. Yep, I've been to other dimensions. But it's a team thing. Two people have to have the mark to trip. That's what we call dimension hopping. Me and my sisters can do it.

That brings me to my next topic. My sisters. We're not actually related. Must of us aren't even from the same dimension. Emily and I are both from the Avengers/X-Men Evo/Spiderman/Fantastic4 dimension which is where I'm stuck right now. I don't know who the Avengers or the X-Men are yet. The Fantastic 4 I know exist and Spiderman I've never heard of but I'm guessing a lot from his name. My other sisters are from other dimensions.

Also, each dimension can see other dimension so they have the same music, actors, movies, books, you get the picture. This makes life so much easier for us trippers so we don't have to worry about saying things like "As bad as being reaped for the Hunger Games" or "I wish I had Elsa's powers from Frozen" or "I love Lady Gaga's latest single" and being asked what we mean.

So now we have all that cleared up, lets understand why I'm here. I'm just taking a break. I've been on other dimensions and now I want to chill back home while I let Emily take charge of the girls for a while.

Subject three: tripping. (and a bit more about my sisters) I've been through hell and back looking for this information. If you don't understand science,... whatever, I don't either. But i have discovered that everyone that can trip, has a disability or a disorder or something. Me, I'm hyper kinetic. Basically, I'm hyper, prone to mood swings and love doing different things every couple of minutes. Angel, my youngest sister, is autistic**(2)**and I practically raised her, seeing as her mom left her and Savannah when she was three months and Sav was two. Sav, is dyspraxic**(3)** and she is six at the moment. Her and Angel are blood sisters. Then there's Juliet, who is nine and bipolar **(4)**, so whenever we're both in a bad mood, sparks fly to say the least. Then there's Emily, my second-in-command in our band of renegades. She's the same age as me, thirteen and genius/fashionista to the boot. She has dyscalculia**(5) **making her hate maths. Finally there's Jessie, the newest addition to our troupe. She's also thirteen but has been deaf since age ten along with already having dyslexia** (6)**

A side affect of being able to trip is that, once you reach fifteen, you stop aging. Well you still age, but only in your home dimension, the place you were born or the place you announce to be your home. For example, I once met a guy who looked fifteen or sixteen but was actually seventy three! He had announced a dimension he hated to be his home and never went there. He gave me so much information before I put a dagger through him.

That brings up my weaponry. No, don't worry. I'm not a heartless assassin. That guy was trying to make me an assassin and kill my sisters. So I killed him. But we'll get back to that later. I have a vast arsenal of point things. And it's all completely for self defense. Or venting my anger. Both being plausible answers. I am the proud owner of three daggers, eight throwing knives, a collapsible bow, sixteen throwing stars, nine arrows, a khopesh, a broadsword, four guns and three trusty pieces of good old rope . Impressive, no? Normally, I fight with a dagger, the bow and arrows and the khopesh, so I can deal with people at a distance but am just as good at close range. I dish the others out according to need. For example, Juliet can tie great knots and is great at close combat, so she gets some rope and a dagger. Where as Angel, being an autistic four year old, is left with some throwing stars and a gun. She knows to never point the bang-bang stick at her sisters or people they call friends.

Well now you know me and my story, let us begin.

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It all began the night Mr. Tony Stark interrupted my choreography. See, to pick up enough cash to get by, I choreograph dance routines. I'm actually pretty good at it. And at that point in time, I was choreographing "L'chaim" for Fiddler on the Roof. The production was going to be the first shown in the new theatre that Stark had funded, for the publicity if you ask me. Anyway, he stormed into the main room just as I was positioning my actors for the scene. then what does he start by doing?

"Where are Nathaniel and Pete. I need my Tevye and Lazar here, now. Good, you stand he-"

"You!" he shouted, just to be heard over my counting. I twisted my body over so I was looking at him upside down.

"Yes?"

"You're Emma, right?"

"Are you a psycho trying to sell me drugs?"

"You're meant to come with me. I mean now. The director says you can finish this tomorrow" he said, gesturing with one hand to my dancers.

I groaned before doing a back walkover from the position I was in.

"Fine" I said, walking up beside him "but I'd better not have to suffer through care-home food"

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**(1) English, Irish, German, French, Italian, Spanish, ASL, Russian, Polish, Greek, Hebrew, Romanian, Afrikaans, learning: Swahili and Latin, starting Romani**

**(2)For more on autism: wiki/Autism**

**(3) For more on dyspraxia: types-learning-disabilities/dyspraxia/what-is-dyspraxia**

**(4) For more on bipolar disorder: wiki/Bipolar_disorder**

**(5) For more on dyscalculia: wiki/Dyscalculia**

**(6) For more on wiki/Dyslexia**

**Sorry for the terrible first chapter. Things will pick up soon. But till then press the button  
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**Down**

**There**

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	2. Family Matters

**Happy New Year! Although Emma is loosely based off me, we are different ages because I want her to be fifteen when we do the Avengers. This brings me to my poll- do you want me to do the iron man movies or hop straight to avengers? I'll need three review answers to continue. But here's your chapter for the day. By the way, what did you guys get for Christmas? Now I'll do review replies just for this chapter. After this, I'll reply via pm. if I remember at all  
Captain Curiosity: Thanks, and so I shall  
tmittens11: Thank you  
chocolate1999: stop using my profile tiny!  
StardustOwl: your wish is my command :)  
Also thanks to blue-black flames for following along with StardustOwl and Captain Curiosity. Now onwards!**

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Lets clear this up. I hate sitting. Just, no. I'm too impulsive. Guess we can clearly blame my upbringing for this. I was raised by my mom, who was Irish but was raised in England by her aunt because her mother was ill, and my stepfather, who was German, along with my twin sister. When I was four years, three months and thirteen days old, on January 3rd, there was a house fire. Me and my sister were playing in the garden while Mamó, our grandmother, our mothers mother, watched us while Mamaí and Papa slept in since it was their first wedding anniversary. They hadn't woken up ever.

So Marie and I were sent to a care home as Mamó wasn't able to get custody. We were there for twenty six days before Marie was adopted. I stayed for another seventeen days before running away aged four years, four months and twenty five days.

After that I lived on the streets for nine years. The streets are violent, even in different dimensions. Murderers and muggers and rapists. Bastards and bitches the lot of them. Trust me, I've dealt with them all. Yes even the rapists. My sister, Jessie, is quite pretty and has impresive cleavage for a thirteen year old.

But life on the street has one advantage. I can defend myself. I've ocassionally fought for money just so my sisters don't starve.

We also sing on the sides of pedestrian streets, those ones with no cars. We're actually pretty decent and sometimes borrow instruments or cd players from shop owners to broadcast them. I only sing paticular singers like Ariana Grande because I'm the only one who can reach the whistle register. Despite having the deepest voice in our group, my singing voice is quite high. Juliet can rap, which is really handy. Jessie plays the guitar, drums and various other instruments amazingly but can't sing and Savannah is a dab hand at the piano with a boyish singing voice. Emily has a huge vocal range, about five octaves. Angel does sometimes sing, but only clean songs and mainly songs that are meant to be cute

Whenever we have cd players we dance. This is more my forte. I have a great sense of rhythym so I normally coreograph the dances. Thats how I landed the job at the theatre. Normally Juliet, Jessie, Emily and I dance seeing as we have better stamina than the two youngsters but occasionally they join us for less complicated routines.

Now you know why I can't sit still. Add in some hyperkinect-ness and you've got a match made in hell. So obviously, mister Stark had to have a posh car. It was a silver 2008 audi r8, actually quite a nice car, but I wish he had a limo, more room to move.

I rummaged around in the glove compartment until I found what I needed. A pair of big sunglasses, very feminine ones with Gucci written in gold on the side. Probably left by some random woman who ended up having a one-night stand with Tony before he forgot her name. Depessing really, but great for me. I would have worn the square ones I'd found but Stark took them off me.

Slipping them on I asked Tony the question I had held in the last five minutes which is quite impressive for me seeing as there is no filter between my brain and my mouth.

"Why am I here in a car with a billionare while I busk for money?"

Tony didn't even glance over "I was called by a doctor Rodríguez. He told me I had to come pick something up and to give you lift. Something about tests?"

Finally, my results. I had had my dna tested by Doctor Rodríguez who came by the orphanage once a month to take dna samples from kids who didn't know their parentage. I was tested last time around along with a baby found on the doorstep and an eight year old. Normally Janie, the woman who runs the place, gives us lifts over when they find out but obviously she was busy and Doctor Rodríguez had asked Tony to pick me up, make it one trip. Tony probably had tests monthly to deal with random woman, claiming he was the father of their kid. Again , depressing.

"how far till we get there?" I asked. The man shrugged.

"fifteen minutes maybe"

So what did you think we did the rest of the way there? Well it started as a pleasent conversation about tablets and escalated into an argument about starkpads versus ipads.

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Arriving at Doc R's practice, I hopped out of the car and cartwheeled before looking at Tony. He glared.

"The starkpad is still better" he said before entering the building. I agreed with him but wouldn't say. Pass up on a fun argument? I think not.

"Perfect" the secretary said "Mister Stark, Miss Emma, please take a seat in Doctor Rodríguez's office. He'll be there soon"

As she walked out, she turned around "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Scotch" Tony said "usual brand"

"Coke. As in coca-cola" I replied. The secratary nodded before leaving.

"Hello" Doctor Rodríguez entered the room, flicking through some papers. He was a balding man and what hair he had was grey. He had thin lips and brown eyes. He was wearing grey trousers and a check button down shirt with black loafers.

"Lets start then. Emma Raven blank" he turned to me " you have three living relatives" I shrugged. It was an improvement.

"Mother was Aoife Morgan Wolf née Lynch, deceased" I groaned.

"It's pronounced E-fuh not A-oh-fee" I corrected. Why did people always get it wrong "Like you're about to say fuck but there's a responsible person watching so you forget the ck"

"Alright, Mother was _Aoife_ Morgan Wolf née Lynch, deceased." Doc R repeated. The secretary returned with our drinks. I took the scotch and gave the coke to Tony. I took a gulp of the drink.

"You're fifteen and living in an orphanage" Tony complained, taking the alchohol.

"Born in Ireland, Irish mother, lived on the street for the last nine years, I think I can hold my drink" I said but still took the coke.

"Let's continue" Doc R said regaining m attention. "One sister, Anna Marie Wolf, living" One living I knew, but no one hd ever used Anna for her, we just called her Marie.

"Grandmother, Mary-Ann Kate Lynch née Folen, living." Thank God Mamó was still alive.

"Grandfather, Patrick James Lynch, deceased. Step-father, Felix Björn Wolf, deceased."

Now the last question. "So who's my father?" I asked.

"He's sitting right next to you"

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**Cool ending right? I hope so. Chapter was a decent length. So praying for reviews.  
**

**So Emma's initials are going to be ERS or ERW depending on who she's talking to. **

**Mary-Ann Kate Lynch née Folen was a litle tribute to my grandmother who died on November 21 2013. The first name is actually the same (Mary-Ann). No-one else of Emma's family are based off real living people that I know.**

**ps: if anyone speaks/can write in russian, I may need your help later in the fic. It's that or google translate.**

**So please review, I can't force you but please do!**


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